


all your flaunts of adoration

by Sotong_sotong



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Angst, Feelings, Introspection, M/M, Trip POV, childhood-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1404388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sotong_sotong/pseuds/Sotong_sotong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a certain kind of distance that yawns achingly between you and him, and that niggling little something buries further inside your tiny mind; it makes itself present in your heart even when you are just a mere brat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all your flaunts of adoration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [synstruck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/synstruck/gifts), [Shinocchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinocchi/gifts).



> Purely word vomit that was inspired by a picture by my friends who cosplayed their younger versions; little Trip was peering/leaning against Virus' shoulder and I just lost it. Lots of feels for these two, okay, please forgive me. In short, it's an introspective piece beginning during their childhood and ending slightly when they merge into youth slightly before meeting Aoba. My writing style is kinda helter skelter so i can only pray it makes sense somehow LOL 
> 
> Also, cheers to kittenprince and Shinocchi! Thanks for being my kink mates so far!

There is a certain kind of distance that yawns achingly between you and him, and that niggling little something buries further inside your tiny mind; it makes itself present in your heart even when you are just a mere brat.

( _"about how we are the same and yet how we are not"_ )

****

You remember an instance, once ago, when he had let you sidle close, allowed your breath to hit his neck as you peered over his shoulder. In your heart of hearts, you told yourself that you were only curious of what had kept Virus so preoccupied; how else would you have described the twist in your chest upon realising that the older boy had not moved from his corner since the past hour?

Your eyebrows hitched; clasped within those slender fingers was a book, _only_ a book and the snort you made at that is anything but impressed.

As if sensing that something was not quite right, Virus shot an inquiring glance down at you but you were stubborn, huffing as you pointedly glared the other way.

( _you were too young to know what mortification is, to be envious of just a book_ )

To your disbelief, he merely shrugged before resuming full focus on his reading and no matter what you did to try and distract him again, they were only met with an infuriating indifference that set your teeth on grit. You slipped off the seat, all gloomy and crabby at being so effectively ignored as you slunk towards the door— _until a soft chuckle met your ears_.

You swung around immediately. Virus remained poised, gaze firm upon his book.

A stutter of a breath, the spread of heat across your cheeks.

( _unfortunately, this is how you begin your first lesson in yearning_ )

****

One day, when you both are older and much, much more perverse, you wonder if you should make a thought known; your tongue aches to roll and lift, to enunciate a secret and leave it aloud hanging ~~for better or for worse~~ in the air.

You do voice it out. Somehow. Not exactly in the words that you would have liked but hell. 

"You know, I really like you a lot. Want to be like you if I could. Really."

A necessary grin stretches stark against your cheeks.

Virus merely quirks an eyebrow up and laughs.

"Do whatever the fuck you want. I'm not sure what you see in me or my looks but it’s your life. It’s your call.”

Then, he flashes a smile at you. A very, very ~~_quickbreathtakinglyfondsoimpossiblydearitnearlymakesyoupuke_ ~~ nice smile.

And that seals the deal.

****

Blonde hair, blue eyes, rogueish smiles, a dual guise: all your flaunts of adoration.

( _imitation is the best form of flattery, after all_ )


End file.
